


Winter Soldier

by AngelycDevil



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: A lot of talking, All the banter, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Established Relationship, HEA, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstandings, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, dancing!Bucky, date night fluff, lots of love, metal-arm feelings, post-ws, singing!Bucky, they are works in progress, trigger warning: self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:53:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3576894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelycDevil/pseuds/AngelycDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1. Bucky’s acting strange lately and Steve thinks there's a possibility he's doing something wrong. He trusts him, really, but just in case, follows him on a Saturday night. Turns out Bucky can sing. </p><p>3. Bucky doesn't like to touch Steve with his prosthetic hand.</p><p>Tags: Fluff and crack, Misunderstandings, and Angst</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Soldier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyshadowdrake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyshadowdrake/gifts).



> Heh. So the crack didn’t happen, but there ARE fluffy scenes. This came out to be way longer than I expected, but more for you! Much love and hugs to EveryDayBella and myheroin1 for looking this over. <3
> 
>  **** TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm **** I have put the section in parenthesis for those who do not want to read it.
> 
> For your viewing pleasure:
> 
> Bucky in his suit - https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/31/b8/28/31b828dfee80a4b1f3a7bdef49bc2cc1.jpg
> 
> Steve in his suit (except more blond) - http://40.media.tumblr.com/493931ac4a3c02d2979975559f9d40dd/tumblr_ncyyk82E8q1svxflto1_1280.jpg
> 
> Enjoy!

If anyone sees Captain America now, they probably won’t recognize him. His shield is nowhere to be seen, his clean-shaven jaw is covered with light fuzz and he has abandoned the stealth suit for an actual suit and his Harley for one of Tony’s cars—oh, excuse him, _masterpieces._

Perhaps he’s overdoing it a bit, but considering he’s never had the opportunity to do anything like this before, he figures he has a free pass.

He maneuvers through the sleeping city as quiet as a mouse and parks in front of Bucky’s apartment complex. A small part of his heart twists and tugs as it always does, but he knows that this is what is best for them. Growing up, they’d always been together. It was better that way. Now, after…everything that has happened, they need to be alone and discover themselves again, as his psychiatrist put it. Of course, Steve hadn’t agreed to it until he was sure Bucky _will_ be okay, (they had both stayed at the Avengers Tower until they reached this point) and even though Steve has had no reason to regret this decision, a part of him still aches for the time when they had fallen asleep, cuddled together under one blanket to the roar of thunderstorms outside.

A very small part of him, he realizes as he unlocks the gate and slips inside. As close as they had been then, they are infinitely closer now. They hadn’t had this option then, the thought had never crossed their minds, at least not Steve’s. Bucky has admitted to a few fantasies after much poking and prodding, but he knew they’d had too much to lose. Now though, it’s legal and widely accepted, and it is _absolutely wonderful._ Falling for Bucky was as easy as falling itself.

Steve doesn’t remember how or when his view shifted from pure concern to so much more. He doesn’t remember when he started finding excuses to touch Bucky some more, to hug him, to pull him closer. At first he’d shoved it off, figuring it’s a normal response to finding out your best friend is alive after years.

Then came the dreams, the ones that had Steve gasping awake before sunrise with an erection, the ones that haunted him day and night, the ones he simply _couldn’t_ get rid of until he stumbles into the shower and jacks off to _Bucky,_ his _best friend._

Then came the reciprocation. Steve had been foolish to think Bucky wouldn’t notice when everyone else did. But Bucky did notice and he gave back, slowly, hesitantly and subtly as he came into terms with his own feelings.

It all came to a head on movie night. A spark was lit—God knows how—under their feet and their quasi-innocent touches, their childish bickering, their mini wrestling match over who gets to hold the popcorn bowl because they simply couldn’t get another bowl—it’s not like they’re living in a billionaire’s house for Christ’s sake—ended up with Bucky’s lips on Steve’s, his human arm against Steve’s throat with both of them stretched out over the loveseat. Steve had melted into his touch, wrapping his warm arms around Bucky’s until there could not possibly be any space between the two. They kissed as touch-starved men, as star-crossed lovers, as each other’s home and heart. It wasn’t until they slowed down to come up for the air did they notice the empty room and the movie credits rolling.

Steve doesn’t remember the last time he’d blushed so hard, but Bucky—that bastard—had simply shrugged before diving in for more kisses.    

Steve couldn’t look Tony or Pepper in the eye for two days after what they’d done on the couch. Not that Tony took any mercy on him because of it. He decided that day that he was surrounded by assholes. Bucky, of course, had taken it all in stride and was comfortable enough to give back as good as he got…to anyone but Tony himself.

Even after all this time, even after Tony came to the conclusion that he doesn’t blame Bucky at all, even after all those months of Tony attempting to build a bridge, Bucky still isn’t comfortable with talking to Tony. Hell, he actively avoids every situation that requires him to make conversation with the son of the friend that he murdered. Steve refuses to make Bucky do anything, but he has tried to help. He knows how gripping guilt can be and he knows _for a fact_ that if Bucky had ended up with a kid before Steve let him fall, there is no way in hell that he could’ve been able to be around the kid. Call him a coward, but Steve would’ve never been able to introduce himself to the kid as his father’s friend when he was the reason the kid’s father is dead. He has tried to explain this to Tony and Tony says he understands, but Steve has gotten to know Tony well enough to know that he isn’t okay with it at all.

One of these days, things will change and all their horrors will fade.

But Steve is a realist and he knows that change isn’t going to happen by itself. _They_ need to make it happen and this trip he’s planned for Bucky and himself is one of the many steps toward the future, _their_ future.

If he’s being completely honest with himself, he’s excited… _a lot._ Mostly because he knows how much Bucky will absolutely love it. As kids, Bucky was always the one to keep up with the times. He absorbed scientific discoveries like a sponge, his interests varying from technology to astronomy. Anytime he managed to scrape together enough money after all the bills, he dragged Steve to the latest exhibit, marveling over everything. Steve, tending to look at things through a more artistic gaze, gaped at the beauty of science and Bucky’s child-like enthusiasm.

The universe has always been the one topic that the both of them fell head over heels for. It captured both their interests completely. While Bucky saw behavior, constellations, facts, theories and movement, Steve saw brightness, tenancy, birth, rebirth, and death in the most stunning manner.

It’s been decades since they last visited the planetarium together.

Tonight, they’re going to break that streak.

Steve has the most perfect night planned. With Tony’s help, he’s managed to close the planetarium off to anyone but himself and Bucky. Steve even got the manager to agree to send the staff home. Food has been prepared and stored in the kitchen. They’ll have dinner before having the entire place to themselves until six a.m. Steve has been visiting the planetarium for the past few weeks to study its layout and learn all the random facts Bucky would be interested in. Things have changed so much over last few years, and Steve can’t wait to show Bucky the world through a whole new lens.

Taking a breath to calm his overactive nerves, Steve rings the doorbell twice. He shoves his free hand into his pocket while trying to stop grinning like a madman. Steve’s always been this way, expressive, open. It makes him a horrible liar, much to everyone’s dismay. Nat has been trying to work on it with him, trying to teach him how to control his facial movements, to be aware of them, and he likes to think that he’s getting there…very, very slowly. But, hey, nobody’s perfect.

After a few seconds, Steve rings the doorbell again. It’s isn’t like Bucky to take so long to answer. _Maybe he’s sleeping_. Shifting the bag onto the other hand, Steve fishes out his cell phone and calls Bucky who picks up after the fourth ring.

Indiscernible chatter fills the line before fading away. Maybe Bucky isn’t sleeping. Huh.

“Hey, Stevie, what’s shakin’?” A low, cheerful voice vibrates against his eardrums and Steve rolls his eyes. There are some things Steve wishes Bucky never learned about the new age…

“Where are you, Buck? Thought you’d be home.”

“Sorry, Stevie. Got stuck with a double shift since Mary couldn’t make it in today.”

Steve freezes. “You’re at work?”

“Yeah.” _Oh._

 _He’s…lying to me._ Steve swallows heavily as his heart breaks into a deadly sprint. _Why would he lie to me? Why would—how long has he been—no, no, don’t over think this. Trust him. Relationships are built on trust. It’s okay. It’s oka—_

“Stevie, you still there?”

Steve nearly jumps out of his skin. “Yeah! Yeah, um, I, uh…when you get out? I’m at your place actually.” _...where you are supposed to be right now because I did everything I could to make sure you will be, including calling into your work and making sure they don’t schedule you for tonight._

Steve draws in a shaky breath.

“You are? What are you doing there?”

“I—I, uh, I kinda have something planned. I wanted to surprise you…with something.”

“A surprise? _For me_?”

“Yeah. I know it’s not our usual date night, but I wanted to…do something special.” _I thought you’d be home._

Bucky chuckles, and Steve can almost see him shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that, Stevie?”

“Well, if I can’t spoil my boyfriend…” Steve clears his throat, deciding to play along because he trusts Bucky and Bucky will tell him if it’s anything important. They will be okay. “When’s your shift over?”

“Gimme ten minutes and I’m coming home.”

“You can’t just leave work, Buck.”

“Stevie, my boyfriend has planned a very special night for me and knowing him, he probably put a shitton of work into it. _I’m coming home_. Work can suck it. Besides, I’ll call Mark in. He owes me a favor.”

Steve gnaws on his lip. “Okay, hurry back.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky whispers teasingly. A shiver slithers along Steve’s spine. “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you too, dollface,” Steve replies and blows loud kisses into the speaker, chuckling when Bucky growls at him.

They will be okay.

 

* * *

 

About twenty minutes later, the door unlocks and Steve straightens, relief filtering through him. As much as he tried to tell himself it’s nothing, that everything will be okay (which is something he truly believed), doubt has been a nagging companion. Getting his overactive mind to shut the fuck up is a work in progress.

“I can’t believe you nev—” Steve looks up at the sudden interruption to see Bucky, frozen and gaping. “You’re wearing a suit.”

Steve swallows his smile. It’s not often that he dresses up and he can’t remember the last time Bucky has seen him in a suit.

Steve shrugs shyly before pushing garment bag into Bucky. “This one is yours.”

“You got me a suit.” A smile begins to form on Bucky’s lips as he takes the cover.

“Yeah. I thought it’d be nice. Hope you don’t mind.”

Bucky chuckles and steps closer until he’s inches from his boyfriend. “I bet you just wanted to see my ass in it,” he whispers.

Steve rolls his eyes as a blush creeps into his cheeks. “Or I wanted to do something nice for the both of us and I thought we coul…” Steve blinks, words disappearing from his mouth, as a warm hand traces his jawline. All of his thoughts vanish as he leans in and meets Bucky halfway. _So soft_. He sighs into Bucky’s mouth, allowing himself to be crowded against the wall. He slips his fingers into Bucky’s short, silky hair, tugging him closer until there’s no space between them. They fit like puzzle pieces, molding and melting into each other’s touch.

Bucky breaks away first, burying his head into Steve’s neck, as he draws in deep unsteady breaths. “I love you, Stevie.”

“I love you too, Buck.” Steve sneaks in a kiss to the forehead before untangling himself from Bucky. “You should get ready, or we’re gonna be late.”

“ _Fiiiinnnne._ ” Bucky pouts and steals another kiss. Steve indulges him for a moment before slapping his ass and pushing him away. If he hadn’t, they would’ve been making out in the living room for hours. Bucky huffs before heading into his room to change (which is a pity in itself), dragging feet and slumped shoulders.

Steve sags against the wall, biting away his silly smile, reveling in Bucky. All of his previous worries somehow evaporate around Bucky, as if he’s the sunshine to cut through Steve’s rain. Steve can’t remember a time he was happier.

Around Bucky, all pretenses slip away and he can be himself, completely. It’s been this way ever since they met. God knows _why_ Bucky stuck around because Steve knows he wasn’t the easiest person to be around. He might have been justified in his frustration, but he tried not to act on it…and often failed miserably, resulting in countless cuts and bruises and Bucky having to step in…which of course pissed him off even further.

Looking back, Steve can see that Bucky was trying to save his life, but then shame and anger burned through him every time Bucky ended the fight. As much as he was eventually thankful, as much as he loved and looked up to Bucky then, bitterness had been a constant companion. He’d never measure up. He’d always be the one overlooked, even when he was screaming. He was not tall enough to be looked at, not healthy enough to live, not weak enough to die, not good enough to ever amount to anything, not normal enough to be accepted by anyone Bucky. He’d hit rock bottom so many times that he lost count, and Bucky had stuck with him through it all. Bucky saved him in more ways than one and when he finally became someone worth something, it wasn’t enough to save Bucky.

He should have let Bucky go. Bucky had _just_ been captured, beaten, half-starved to death, tortured and experimented on, and Steve had dragged him back into hell. If he hadn’t, Bucky would’ve gone home, gotten a job, taken care of his family, fell in love, had kids to carry on his name…and now, he’ll never have the chance. Because Steve hadn’t been able to let him go. Because Steve ~~was~~ is a selfish littl—

“You’re thinking too hard.” A whisper. A life boat to which Steve shamelessly clings to.

Steve snorts, wiping at his eyes before focusing on Bucky…in his suit. _Fuck._ “You look great.”

Bucky smirks and pulls Steve in for a tight hug. “Don’t I?”

“Remind me to send Pepper some flowers,” Steve mumbles.

“I _knew_ you didn’t pick this out.” Bucky drops a kiss on Steve’s shoulder. “Punk.”

“Ay! I brought it here. It counts.”

Bucky sighs loudly. “No, doll,” _kiss_ “it really doesn’t. The thought” _kiss_ “on the other hand” _kiss_ “definitely counts.”

“Good.” Steve smiles as he breathes in Bucky’s scent, grounding himself in Bucky’s breathing as he did when they were kids.

“You okay?”

“I will be.”

“Good. Think about everything we have now…things that we never thought about before. I’m _happy._ ”

“So am I, Buck. You have no idea.” Steve swallows at the lump in his throat. _Talk,_ he can almost hear his therapist’s soft but firm voice (it reminds him of Peggy) reprimanding him. _Communicate. He can’t read your mind, you know._ “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, but I _broke you._ ” Bucky’s arms tighten around Steve, but he doesn’t say a word. “Everything you went through, because of me, because of Hydra…all that pain and suffering…you would’ve been better off. Grew up, worked a steady job, took care of Ma and Rachel and gotten married, had kids, grandkids…been normal. I can’t give you that, Buck. I can never give you that.”

Steve freezes, clamping his teeth down on his lips, his heart at his throat, because maybe Bucky never thought about this. Maybe Bucky never considered _family_ , but now he will and he’ll realize how much he’s missing out on an—

“What makes you think I want that?”

“Everyone wants a family, Buck.” Steve exhales sharply, his lips stretching, bitter and cutting.

Bucky pulls away, and everything in Steve starts to shut down. How it got this bad, he doesn’t know. He’d been so excited and everything was so well an—

Bucky takes his face into his palms, forcing Steve to look at him. Steve doesn’t know what Bucky sees there…whatever it is puts a tiny smile on Bucky’s lips.

“I _have_ a family, Stevie. Right here. You’re all that I need.” Bucky’s lips stretch wide, curling upward and for a second, it’s like they’re back in their paper-thin apartment, without a care in the world. For the first time in a very long time, Bucky’s eyes are…free, shining. “You mean everything to me.”

All the air comes rushing out of Steve as he lets the words sink in. He never meant much to anyone. Sure, he’s been America’s “savior” and they need him, but no one has ever needed _him._ He’s never meant _everything_ to someone. He doesn’t even know what that means—to mean everything to someone. He doesn’t pause for a moment to wonder just how long he’s meant that much to Bucky. He doesn’t let doubt, fear and his fucking guilt prick him anymore.

Instead, he gives into the most wonderful feeling that’s breaking through him. He surges forward to grab Bucky by his collar and pull him forward until their faces are inches apart. Then, he leans forward slowly, taking his time to caress Bucky’s cheek, jaw, lips, to brush his lips across every stretch of skin he could reach, to love Bucky with his every touch. For what it’s worth, Bucky lets him…mostly. He stands still patiently, letting Steve have his way, until his blood is simmering, his heart is pounding and before he knows it, his fingers are tangled in Steve’s short blond hair, tugging him closer, pushing him back against a wall. They spend the next few minutes leisurely kissing without intent, capturing each other’s lips, tongues, breaths as their hands roam over the soft silky material of their suits. They kiss and touch until they’re drunk off of each other, completely submerged in their own little world until a sharp melody has them jumping apart.

“Fuck, you asshole. _We’re late_ ,” Steve growls out, poking Bucky until he moves. “You need to stay away from me or we’ll never leave.”

Bucky eyes light up for a moment before he huffs. “Okay, okay.” Bucky steps away, hands up in surrender. “I’ll be good, Captain. I promise.”

Steve takes a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Good. Now, move it.”

Bucky salutes lightly and moves to hold the door open for his boyfriend, but he can’t resist slapping his ass (what? have you _seen_ his ass?) as he walks past, chuckling when he draws an exasperated _“Buuck”_ out of him. Steve waits for Bucky to lock the door before intertwining their fingers together because they can, because they want to, because it’s their duty since not everyone has super strength and the Avengers to back them up. As far as America has come over the decades, in some ways they haven’t come far at all, and Steve has taken upon himself to make change happen. He is a symbol to the nations, a role model, and he figured that it’s time that he used that to sell more than bonds and war to American citizens. Of course, the backlash is wide and angry, but the positivity and support, especially from the younger generation, makes it all worth it. After all, it’s _their_ world.

“So, you’re gonna tell me where we’re going?” Bucky asks, rocking on his feet.

Steve shakes his head, smiling at Bucky’s enthusiasm. He’s always been this way for as long as Steve can remember. They never much money to go out all the time, but when they saved up for it, Bucky gets _excited._

“But _you have to_ , Stevie. _Plllllllease_?” Bucky continues, tugging on Steve’s arm.

“Nope. It’s a complete surprise.” Bucky’s face drops into a full pout at this and Steve has to bite his lips together to stop the laugh threatening to break out of him, because laughing won’t help his plan. Yes, he has a plan. He knew exactly how Bucky would react and if he wants everything to go according to plan, he’s gonna have to play his cards right. Turning to face Bucky completely, he grabs Bucky’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “You love me, right?”

Bucky’s eyes narrow, but he nods.

“And you trust me?”

“’Course, pal.”

“And I have spent a long time planning this.”

“So…?”

“So, I’m going to do something because I want to and I need you to be okay with it.”

“What is it?”

“It’s not gonna hurt or something, I swear.”

“Well, _yeah_.”

“So, you don’t really need to know what it is. I need you trust me with this and let me do it. Please?”

_Say yes. Say yes. Say yes._

“Fine. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Steve can’t stop the smile from breaking out on his face, but it doesn’t matter because Bucky agreed and he can’t take it back. Planting a swift kiss on Bucky’s cheek, Steve practically drags Bucky out the open elevator.

“Stand there,” he says, unlocking the car. “And close your eyes. No cheating.”

“ _Stevie_.” It’s not that Bucky doesn’t trust Steve, he just really doesn’t like to close his eyes. He can’t analyze his surroundings without his eyes closed, resulting in him feeling more exposed than he’s comfortable with.

“No one’s here, Buck. I swear. You’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you.” A lone thought flitted across Steve’s mind that the last time Bucky trusted Steve, he lost an arm, but Steve pointedly ignores it. They’re on a _date._ They’re going have _fun._

Bucky stares at him for a few seconds before nods. A tiny knot unravels in Steve’s chest. _Bucky trusts him._

Steve quickly gets what he needs from the dashboard of the car and returns to Bucky. Angling him away from the car, he stands behind Bucky, tips his head straight and slips black cloth over his eyes. Bucky freezes underneath him, as Steve knew he would. He drops his palm from behind Bucky’s head to his shoulders, making his every move apparent as he slips his arms around Bucky.

“Trust me.” _Even though I let you down the first time. Even though you have no reason to. Just for me. Because I need you to. Please._

Bucky inhales deeply and exhales. Once, twice, three and four times. His shoulders soften under Steve’s chin. His hands come up to cover the ones wrapped around him.

“Okay.”

Steve smiles small. He’ll never know what he did to deserve this man. Untangling from Bucky, he slowly tugs him toward the passenger seat of the car. He guides Bucky through every move and buckles him in. He sprints to his side and starts the car. In his peripheral, he can see Bucky squirm a little, enough to make Steve wonder if it’s worth it. It isn’t a big deal. They’ll still have a great time, even if it isn’t a complete surprise.

Except… he wants it to be.

Bucky has taken him to so many places before, Steve wants to take Bucky out for once. He wants Bucky to be nervous and excited about it. He wants to see Bucky’s face light up when the blindfold is taken. He wants Bucky to realize how much he means to Steve and how much effort Steve has—and always will—put into showing it to him.

Because Bucky means everything to Steve too.

So he puts the car in reverse and pulls out of the parking spot.

They will be okay.

 

* * *

 

It takes about a forty minutes to drive out to the planetarium since Steve took the long way around a few times. Part of it he had planned, the other part he mapped out on a whim because a few minutes after they left the apartment, Bucky extended his left arm, palm spread open over the console, _asking_ for Steve to hold his hand. He doesn’t know why, how or what. All he knows is that Bucky hates that arm. Numerous times, Steve woke up in the middle of the night to Bucky trying to rip the arm to pieces and even after all the therapy and Steve reassuring him that _no, I don’t hate the arm, it’s a part of you, I can’t hate a part of you ever_ , Bucky is still very uncomfortable with it. Most of the time, he ignores it. At least he hasn’t tried to take it apart in a few months. But now, Bucky has willingly asked for Steve to hold his metal arm and dammit, Steve wants a few more minutes of it.

Bucky hasn't said a word for the entire car ride, but Steve can feel Bucky's tension fade away. He could almost hear Bucky convincing himself to breathe properly because it's Steve and Steve is more than capable of protecting them. By the time they pull into the planetarium, Bucky is almost completely relaxed and ~~lying about his work~~ chatting about his day. Steve doesn’t know how to handle _that_ yet, so he just nods and pretends like nothing is wrong.

He’ll deal with it later, he decides as he parks the car. Tonight, they are going to have fun and enjoy themselves.

He tells Bucky to wait as he gets out the car and gets the bag of keys left in the trunk. He might have enlisted Tony’s help since none of the staff is going to be around to do the tours. Steve doesn’t really how Tony did it all in one day (though there was probably a lot of robots involved), but Steve had gotten a text a few hours ago stating that everything is set up. Now, all Steve has to do is click one button and the presentations with start all by themselves. He should probably get Tony a gift basket.

Shoving the bag strap over his shoulder, he goes to Bucky’s side to help him out of the car and to the entrance.

“You’re excited.” Bucky sounds amused and he has a reason to. Steve’s never been the excited one before.

“Yes, well, you’re gonna love it...I hope.”

“Oh, I think I will, Stevie.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Ready?” He says with his fingers on the blindfold.

“I’ve been ready ever since you put this thing on me, pal.”

“Take it off then.”

Steve can almost see Bucky rolling his eyes under the blindfold as he reaches up and tugs it loose.

Bucky’s eyes almost pop out of his skull when he realizes where they are.

“A—You—I— _How?_ ” Bucky turns to look at him.

Steve shrugs. “I’m Captain America.”

Bucky barks out a laugh, turning back to the planetarium. “How long?”

“They open at ten.”

“We have it until _then_?”

“Yup. Convinced them to send the staff home.”

“You’re fucking amazing.”

“I try.” Steve chuckles, his blush steadily spreading over his upper body. “Let’s go in, shall we?”

“ _Yeah._ Yeah, okay,” Bucky replies without taking his eyes off the building, his voice breathless.

Steve shakes his head fondly as he unlocks the door. Bucky may never look as he did back in the 40s, but that spark in his eyes when he’s around science apparently never changes. _Basically, the Winter Soldier is a nerd._ Steve snorts.

“I know what you’re thinking, doll, and you better shut it. This is my moment.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“Yes, you are. I can _hear it_.”

“No, you can’t, jerk.”

“Yes, I can. You’re probably waxing poetry or something, Captain.”

“Poetry is more your thing, Buck.”

“Well, one of us has to be the smooth-talker,” Bucky replies, throwing his arm around Steve’s shoulders like when they were kids and planting kiss on his cheek. “I can’t believe you did this for me, Stevie.”

Steve simply smiles. “Dinner first, or you wanna look around?”

“Dinner too, huh? Okay, spill. What do you want?” Bucky says in mock anger.

Steve pokes Bucky’s side, scoffing. “Fuck off, or I’m never doing anything nice again.”

“ _Pffft._ You could never never and I love you for it.”

“I _knew_ you’re only with me for money.” Steve sniffs, turning his face away tautly. “I see how it is.”

“Yeah… that and the fame. Also, the sex is pretty good.”

Steve gasps. “You _ass._ No food for you and you can show _yourself_ around.”

“Oh, please, you have to admit I’m right. We broke the damn headboard last week.”

“ _You_ broke the headboard,” Steve corrects.

“Because _you_ wanted me to fuck you nice and hard. I was just being a good boyfriend.”

“ _Hmph._ You’re still paying for it.”

“Punk. I ain’t made of money, you know.”

Steve rolls his eyes before turning thoughtful. “What if we got metal ones? Those would last longer.”

“For us? I doubt it. Unless you wanna ask Tony for one,” Bucky adds slyly.

“Yeah, that’s not happening. _Ever_. Come on, let’s get it over with.” Steve grabs Bucky and tugs him toward the stairs.

“And I thought I had the choice. Maybe I wanted to walk around for a bit.”

Steve stops and turns around. “ _Do you?_ ”

Bucky smiles and pecks at Steve’s lips. “Nah. I’m good. Let’s eat. What’d you get anyway?”

“Nat said the new Indian place was good.”

Bucky moans. “Chicken 65?”

“Amongst others.”

“I love you,” Bucky says, reverently.

Steve smirks. “I know.”

“You have to say it back, Stevie.” Bucky pinches Steve’s ass. Steve yelps and swats at the hand. “ _Say it back, Stevie.”_

Steve huffs before turning on his heel on the steps and cupping his boyfriend’s face with his palms. Planting a soft kiss on red, wet lips, he confesses his love for him. Bucky smiles smugly and leans down to grip Steve by his legs and lifts him over his shoulder. This was easier when was ninety pounds soaking wet, but Bucky manages. Steve squawks and protests, squirming against the hold while trying not to throw Bucky off balance. When Bucky doesn’t let him go, Steve resigns himself to enjoying the view. (His ass does look fantastic in the suit.)

Bucky sets Steve down when they reach the top floor, catching him as he sways a bit.

“You’re an ass,” Steve slurs.

Bucky replies in kisses until Steve’s head stops spinning and he smacks Bucky away. Telling him to pick a table in the dining room, Steve disappears into the kitchen. The dining room was one of Steve’s favorite rooms. It’s located on the top floor, overlooking the sparkling lake and surrounding trees. The tables are small and square, arranged in neat rows with a fake candle in the middle giving light. There are dividers along the rows, giving an illusion of privacy without being in the way. The art hanging on them are gorgeous pieces, interpreting the galaxies. It’s simple, intimate and romantic. It’s them. They’ve never needed much.

Reading the instructions for heating each dish, he places each in the designated machine, sets the timer and heads back to Bucky.

“Good choice,” he calls out when he sees where Bucky is sitting, staring out of the glass wall at the starry night.

At Steve’s voice, Bucky smiles. “I thought you might like the view,” he admits, nodding to the night sky.

“It’s beautiful,” Steve says, looking at Bucky as he takes his seat.

The next few minutes pass in silence as they gaze at the endless sky. Steve makes a mental note to do research about visiting Alaska. He read the Aurora Borealis are fantastic there. Bucky will love it.

Or maybe he can convince Thor to show him around. _Oh, god._ Bucky will shit his pants. _Yes._ Now, he just needs to find a way to contact Thor. He wonders if Heimdall will see him if he writes a note or maybe not. He’ll have to find another way. Waiting for the next alien invasion is not advisable.

A couple of the timers go off in the kitchen and Steve forces himself to leave the stars. He gets the cart from the utility room and loads it up. Most of the food require the same amount of reheating time, so Steve can eat with Bucky without being interrupted. Steve stays behind to grab the last dish before carting it out.

Bucky is still staring at the night sky when Steve walks in so he takes the time to memorize the peace in Bucky’s eyes and the light shining across his face so he can draw it later. He’s not as good as he used to be, not practicing for decades will do that to you, but he’s taken it up again and he’s trying.

When Steve comes closer, Bucky snaps himself out of it, turning his full attention back to his boyfriend.

“Damn, that looks good.” His tongue swipes over his bottom lip and Steve stifles a groan.

“It smells good.”

“Bet it tastes amazing,” he whispers without taking his eyes off of the dishes.

“Guess we’re gonna find out.”

Steve sets up the plates and cutlery before positioning the cart parallel to the table. In a flurry of passing dishes and utensils, they fill up their plates with various dishes and devour half of it within minutes. Conversation starts up again when they slow down to enjoy their food. They talk about everything and nothing, shying away from no topic. They’re in the middle of ~~ranting about~~ discussing the stupidity of current politicians when Steve remembers that there’s dessert in the freezer and goes to get it.

When he comes back, the indignant disgust on Bucky’s face has lessened and he’s back to being glued to the window. Steve decides to take him out for a walk after dessert before touring the planetarium. Bucky agrees immediately, and they’re out of the door within minutes. Steve stops by the car to see if Tony had a blanket or something in the trunk (which he does) before returning to Bucky. Slipping their fingers together, they walk around aimlessly until picking a spot by the lake to spread out the sleeping bag. They lay there for a good twenty minutes, soaking in the stillness of the surroundings, before Bucky speaks.

“It makes it better.” The words are a whisper in the wind.

“Hmm?”

Bucky shuffling closer, pressing into Steve. Steve wraps his hand around his boyfriend, stroking his hair. “Watching the sky...seeing how the big universe is...knowing how small and insignificant I am, we all are, it helps. Somehow, everything I did becomes smaller. Somehow I’m not complete monster.”

“And I’m just me. Not a hero. Not a symbol.”

“A good man,” Bucky whispers.

Steve twists his head to look at Bucky. “You never saw me as a hero though.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah. You’re still a little punk. _My_ punk.”

Steve stretches to kiss Bucky’s cheek before slinging an arm around and pulling him close. “Yours.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the night goes by plan as they go through each of the exhibits and presentations. Steve chimes in every once in a while with random facts as Bucky absorbs _everything_. It’s about four in the morning when they leave, cleaning up after themselves. Steve sends a quick text to Tony so he can dismantle all of the tech. He’ll have to remember to send one to Mark, the manager, thanking him for the all the effort.

As super soldiers, they might not need sleep, but the comfortable atmosphere combined with the adrenaline of the surprise fading away and the exhaustion of the confessions, they’re half-asleep by the time they’re back at Bucky’s. Steve had planned to head home after, but Bucky tugs him into the elevator, and Steve doesn’t have the heart to say no. Once they’re in the elevator, Bucky snuggles up to Steve, curling into the hollow of his neck while wrapping his arms around the slim waist. Steve sighs contently and hugs him closer.

“Thank you, Stevie.” The slurred words are a mumble against Steve’s skin. “I had a good time.”

“Just good?” He teases.

“Wonderful, sensational, phenomenal, stupendou—”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Steve presses his lips against the top of Bucky’s head. “I did good.”

“So good.”

The elevator chimes and they stumble out as Bucky retrieves his keys. Locking the door behind, they begin to strip, leaving clothes behind in a trail to the bedroom. Completely naked, they shift and shuffle under the gigantic comforter until Bucky settles with his back to Steve and Steve’s arms tight around him before falling asleep.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks sail by as they settle back into their routine. Steve hadn’t accounted for how much this one night will throw him off and by the end of the week, he’s crabby and irritable, much to everyone’s dismay. Bucky adjusts better, mostly because he said fuck it and slept in the day after, promising Fabio that he’ll do the next double shift.

Ever since SHIELD dismantled and there weren’t any specific orders for Steve, he decided to keep himself busy. Every once in a while, Nat or Coulson will contact him for a job, but there’s no schedule like he had under employment, so he made one for himself. Whenever he can, he does odd jobs, here and there with no real consistency. Every other day, he spends a couple of hours at a flower shop near his apartment. Every afternoon, he shelves books at the local library. He holds a fitness club at five in the morning at the gym. That one actually gets him the most money—enough to pay the bills. He doesn’t touch his savings much, he doesn’t even know what he’s saving for. It’s not like he’s planning on having kids anytime soon, nor is he looking to retire. (Though, sometimes in the quiet of his empty room, it’s a nice thought.) Almost half of the savings go homeless shelters and charities across the world. The only reason he dips into his savings is for when he wants to splurge. Even then, he tries to do his best not to spend too much.

Bucky, on the other hand, got himself a steady job. Every weekday from nine to six, he works as an archivist at a nearby museum. It’s perfect for him: quiet but busy. His interactions with other people are limited, but they exist. He even has a few work friends. On weekends, he has his therapy sessions in the afternoons. They used to be every two days, but his progress has been significant in the past few months, so they decided to cut back on the meetings a few weeks ago.

This is the reason Steve is left alone in Bucky’s apartment on a Saturday night after an entire day of doing nothing but spending time together, a rare occurrence given their schedules. They cuddled on the couch, reading, watching TV, surfing the internet. (Bucky likes to go on Tumblr and pick fights with assholes. Steve tries to avoid it all together since he knows he’ll get just as pissed off, probably even more, at the ignorant jerks and the whole ordeal will _not_ end well. He mostly watches at animal videos and random gifs of clumsy children falling down Nat sends him. That’s probably a mean thing for Captain America to do. Oops.) They showered together, fucked against the kitchen counter, the coffee table, the bedroom door, before ending up back in the shower. Now, Steve finally has a few hours to invest in drawing.

Most of the time, he is able to draw something from memory, but he’s been working on something for Pepper and needs to use a reference that’s emailed to him. Since he hadn’t planned to have any time for himself (Bucky usually has his sessions on Sundays), he shoots Bucky a text, asking if he can use his laptop. Once he gets permission, he fetches the laptop from the bedroom and logs in.

He doesn’t mean to look at it. Really, he doesn’t, but the webpage is open and he can’t help glancing at it when he reaches to minimize the page. He can’t help that his eyes recognizes the format to be that of a ticket’s. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s gone through the entire email and figures out that he’s looking at a ticket that Bucky purchased to fly to Chicagoin _three days_ for _two weeks_ , something Bucky hasn’t mentioned _at all._

He shouldn’t draw conclusions, Steve knows that. He should talk to Bucky. He should trust Bucky. He _does_ trust Bucky. He _chose_ to trust Bucky, but Bucky is leaving. It might be only for two weeks, but the emotion that feels like betrayal cuts deep, through all walls and defenses until he’s left bleeding, raw and open. Panic threatens to choke him as he realizes that the one who he chose to trust completely has been lying to him. He’s been betrayed by many people. Hell, he’s been betrayed by an entire organization, one that he worked for. That leaves marks on a person. That leads to watching your back twenty-four-seven. That leads to mistrust and questioning motives, consciously and subconsciously. But Bucky? The thought that Bucky might be hiding something from him has never even crossed his mind. Sure, Bucky has lied, but all humans lie. Every single one. So Steve worked past that. He convinced himself that it was a small lie, that if it was anything big, Bucky would’ve told him. It _never_ occurred to him that it is something big and Bucky has been lying to him about it. Something big enough that Bucky has planned to disappear for two weeks.

Steve drags in an unsteady breath. He needs to breathe. He needs space. He needs to think, and he can’t do here. He can’t consider the possibility that _Bucky_ has let him down too when he’s surrounded by Bucky. He snaps the laptop close, grabs his keys and runs out. He needs to be somewhere safe. He needs to be alone. Starting up his bike, he pulls out of the parking lot and merges into the night traffic.

He doesn’t realize where he’s headed until he sees the building looming over him: the Avengers Tower. He presses his palm against the scanner to be let in the garage. He parks in his spot, the one with the sign that says ‘Property of Steve Rogers’, gets in the elevator and directs JARVIS to his floor. Once he gets off the elevator, he asks JARVIS to lock entrance, to not let anyone in, not even Tony.  

He recognizes the feeling building inside of him, the one that’s threatening to burst out and splatter on the walls. It’s been a very long time since he’s felt this...anger slither through his veins. It’s not anger, not really. It’s an acute sting of pain that sears through you when you realize that you have been used, that you were a means to an end. It’s shattered glass rattling through your lungs. It’s chaos in your mind, getting louder and louder until you’re a hurricane locked within a human body.

He’s felt like this once before.

It was when he woke up in a new world, completely out of place and time. A place where he was just another name in the history books. He woke up amongst people who had taken him, his morals, flipped it upside down, inside out, until he complied to their false promises.

The anger that burned through him...he wrecked his containment cell.

He can feel it boiling in his blood again, except _so much worse_. This time, it’s not random mass of people he didn’t give a fucking fuck about. This time, it’s not your boss, a man so complicated that the only thing you can trust about him is that you can never trust him. This time, it’s not your kind neighbor with a pretty smile.

It’s the man you gave your heart and soul.

The one person who you’ve shared everything with. The one person who was by your side when you were completely alone in this world. The one person whom you trusted with all your being.

But that’s what you get for believing in a ghost, Steve supposes.

More than his anger that Bucky would betray him, it’s anger at _himself._ It’s bitter anger that he’s been stupid to let someone in _again,_ that he’s allowed himself to be let down _again,_ that even after all these times, he can’t defend _himself._

That’s the irony of it all. He’s perfectly at being the world’s first line of defense, their shield, but he can’t protect himself.

The longer he stands there without knowing what to do, the longer he stands there without doing a single thing, the anger turns. It twists, it sears, it drains and fills up again with an ugly mixture of disgust. Because Steve can stand there and blame Bucky all he wants, but at the end of the day, it’s his fault for trusting him. It’s his own fault for building such paper-thin walls.

Anger burns, but disgust is ice and frozen blood. It’s lonely. It’s cold. It’s quiet, suffocating him in an empty room.

He needs to let it out.

He shouldn’t have told Tony to take the punching bag out, but it doesn’t matter. What he has in mind, in his hand, will work just fine.

(((One of the best things about the serum, he’s learned, is that he heals fast, inhumanly fast. No one will know.

He should go to the bathroom. It will be easier to clean.

He stops at his closet to get a clean shirt and a towel.

He enters the bathroom, avoids the mirror, locks the door. He slips his shirt off, steps into the shower. Dark jeans. Pale skin. Metallic glint against pale skin. Pressu—

_Saw you there and I thought_

Cool air sweeps into him. _Bucky._

_Oh my god, look at that face_

Laughter underwater. Distant touches, kisses, whispers. An ache on his skin, in his bones. He breathes.

_You look like my mist—_

“Stevie? Stevie, where’d you go, doll?” _Sunshine. ~~No, no, stupid, he lied to you~~. Maybe._

Breathless. “Tony’s.”

“In New York?” A pause. “Stevie, you alright?”

_No._

“Stevie? Steve!” Panic. Worry. _He cares._

“ _Buck._ ”

“I’m coming there, okay? I’m coming to you. Don’t do anything stupid, remember?”

Another lungful of air. “Nothing stupid.”

“Good. Good. Breathe for me again?”

_In. Out._

“Thanks, baby. One more?”

_In. Out. Loud._

His grip loosens. _Clatter._

“One more, Stevie.” Honey, his voice is like warm honey coating his veins.

_In. Out._

“Better?”

_In. Out._

Steve nods.

“Stevie?”

 _Oh._ “Uh—I—yes.” A deep breath. One step, another, another, and another.

Bucky releases a breath. “Good.”

A few more. He’s out of the bathroom. He sinks down, down.)))

_In, out. In, out. In, out. In, out._

“Buck?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Tell me?” _Please._

A pause. “Steven Grant Rogers, I love you. From the tallest strand of hair on your head to the soles of your feet, I love you.”

_In, out. In, out. In. Out._

“I’ve loved since you punched me for saving your sorry ass and I’ll love you to the end of the line. You’re it for me, Stevie.”

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

Steve releases a shuddering breath, pulling his knees up to wrap his arms around them. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

A few seconds.

“Buck.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I—” _wish I can I’m sorry, but you’re still leaving. You_ lied _me_. _In. Out._ “Hurry.” Steve switches the phone off.

He’s okay. He’s going to be okay.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain?”

“When Bucky comes, let him in.”

“Of course, Captain. Sergeant Barnes is on his way. He will be here in eleven minutes.”

“Thank you, JARVIS.”

_In. Out._

.

.

.

Pounding feet pull him out of the frozen forest of his memories.

“Steve! STEVE!”

He gathers enough strength to look up, a bundle of tear-stained cheeks, trembling fingers and a fracturing heart.

Bucky bursts into the room, his damp hair still clinging to his forehead after his shower, his shirt inside out from his hurry. Relief colors his face when he spots Steve, huddled into the ball behind the couch.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Hey, Buck.” The corners of Steve’s lips stretch apart—a habit, an integrated response—despite the storms ripping his heart apart.

Bucky smiles back with a crumbling effort, dropping to the floor next to Steve. “Can I touch you?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, Steve nods. Bucky carefully curls his palm over the back of Steve’s neck. He moves his fingers slowly, running them through the short, blond hair and along his spine, like his ma used to. They spend a few minutes like this as Steve’s breath evens out and his hands stop trembling. Every once in a while, Bucky would drag his fingers down the side of his neck to his cheek, rubbing his thumb down the length of Steve’s jaw line, until Steve jerks away to lay his head on Bucky’s chest. Shifting until his legs are on either of Steve, cocooning him, Bucky pulls Steve closer, resting his jaw on Steve’s head.

“You scared me, pal.”

“I didn’t mean to. I don’t know what happened. How—” he chokes off, pressing his head harder into Bucky’s chest, against Bucky’s heartbeat.

“You wanna talk about it?”

 _Yes. No._ He isn’t ready for this conversation yet. He needs time to heal, to rebuild his walls over and over until no one can hurt him again. Maybe Nat is onto something. You never let anyone see you, they can’t harm you. He needs time to organize his thoughts. He knows he should call Sharol, talk about his reaction with her first and discuss what he’s going to say to Bucky. He needs time, because right now, everything is chaos in his mind and he can’t see through it.

Bucky takes a deep breath. “I...I know what you saw on my laptop,” he confesses. “You weren’t supposed to. _Not yet._ ”

Steve wants to pretend he didn’t hear that. “You’ve been lying to me.”

“Yes.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as everything in him shatters. A low whine tumbles out of himself before he sews his lips close, and he rights himself, getting away from Bucky.

“No, no, not like that,” Bucky groans. “Stevie, look at me. Look at me.” He grasps Steve’s chin, forcing him to look up, to meet his eyes. Steve holds his gaze for a second before looking away, his heart plummeting. “ _I’m sorry_ for lying to you. It’s wrong, I know. Can I have a chance to explain myself, please?”

Steve clamps down on his lower lip to keep it from quivering as he nods. Everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves. It’s only fair enough.

“There’s something I’ve been doing for a couple months now.” Steve jerks, staring up at Bucky in shock. He’s been lying for _months._ He pulls away when Bucky reaches out, ignoring the way his face falls. Bucky’s hand falls back in his lap where he pulls at his metal fingers agitatedly. “I haven’t even told Michael. I figured you should know before my shrink.”

Bucky takes a deep breath. “It’s kinda hard to explain. I wasn’t looking for it or nothing. I came across it when I was at a bar and I tried out and it felt good…” Bucky looks down, twisting his fingers together. “I don’t know how or why, but it helps me with my arm. I know you and Michael have been trying to help me...accept it and this does.”

Steve’s not a cruel man. He’s not going to rush Bucky through something that’s obviously hard for him to admit. He doesn’t understand why Bucky felt the need to hide it from _him._ Especially if it helps him accept his metal arm. Steve always assumed it was them against the world, but now…

“I know I should’ve told you. It’s just that it’s different and something that was mine...just mine.” Bucky grimaces as the words fall from his mouth as if they were poison, but he forces himself to meet Steve’s eyes. “I know it’s selfish of me, but you had a life set. In the Tower. Here. You have a schedule. You have friends. You belonged somewhere. I know I belong there too, that they’re my friends too. I _know_ that,” Bucky adds when he sees that Steve is going to protest, smiling lightly when Steve grits his teeth. “Michael and I, when we first started talking, we talked about my childhood and teenage years and school and it was all you. I _love_ being with you, but I was with you all the time. I didn’t do much without you, but it didn’t feel like a loss. It still doesn’t. I wouldn’t change a damn thing, but Michael made me realize that I do need something that’s mine...and it can’t be charming my way through life.” Bucky chuckles before hesitantly meeting Steve’s eyes. “It’s nothing against you.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. “I didn’t know you felt this way.”

“Like I said.” Bucky intertwines their fingers together and Steve lets him. “I love spending time with you. I don’t regret a single second of it. I don’t need my _space._ But a relationship is between equals, Steve. After everything that happened, I needed to find myself apart from you, like you have. We needed to get back on the same page.”

Steve smirks. “When have we ever been on the same page?” But he understands what Bucky is trying to say and...he’s okay with it as much as he wishes Bucky hadn’t lied to him.

Bucky takes both of Steve’s hands in his and leans down to kiss his knuckles. “I’ll be content following your stupid ass for the rest of my life, Stevie. I need to do it because I _want_ to, not because I have to. Capisce?”

“Yes. Yes, but...no more lies.”

Bucky pouts before his face brightens again. “Orrrrr… I can make it really obvious that I’m lying and you’ll have to trust me to tell you.”

Steve glares at Bucky until he huffs and rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine. No more lies or hiding. I’m sorry, okay? Can I please get a kiss now?” Bucky begs, puckering his lips.

Steve doesn’t know what he did to deserve this man. He just acted like a complete lunatic, and Bucky wants more. Shaking his head lightly, he leans in, slowly pressing his lips to Bucky’s. He places his palm flat across Bucky’s chest and drags it upward until he’s cupping Bucky’s jaw. Bucky groans into his mouth and Steve takes the opportunity to brush his tongue against Bucky’s bottom lip before sucking on it. He places his arms on either side of Bucky, caging him as he pushes back until he’s stretched out on top, between Bucky’s legs. They kiss languidly, innocently, capturing the other’s lips over and over. Steve slips his wandering hands under Bucky’s shirt, tugging until Bucky curls up and take it off. Bucky’s fingers tug at blond hair before trailing down to run his thumb across Steve’s cheeks before running hands down his back and up again, tracing the muscles before dipping under the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his boyfriend's ass. Steve exhales, rolling his hips forwards, grinding their crotches together, causing Bucky to gasp and then groan.

"Steve." A breathless whine, the best he can do at this moment. "We have to... _ohh."_ He trails off as Steve sucks at his earlobe. Steve takes his time, sucking, licking, biting down the side of Bucky's neck to his collarbone, Bucky’s little whimpers and moans only serving to spur him on.

It’s when Steve moves further down, pressing kisses down Bucky’s sternum, that Bucky is able to gather enough of his thoughts to croak out, “Stop.”

Steve freezes, slightly panting as he looks up at Bucky questioningly, who seems to regretting life at the moment.

“Can we...not?” Bucky rises up to lean on his elbows. “After everything that happened, I don’t think…”

Steve moves to get off of him completely, trying to calm himself down. Bucky is right and he knows it. That doesn’t mean he has to like it...but he’s not about to argue against Bucky’s wishes.

“Of course, Buck.” He gets up on his feet to grab Bucky’s shirt before getting one for himself. Plopping down on the couch, he pats the seat next to him. Bucky takes the seat, grumbling to himself and raising his arm when Steve nudges him, so he can rest his face on Bucky’s shoulder.

Grabbing Bucky’s flesh fingers to play with, he lets curiosity take over. “You still haven’t told why you’re going Chicago.”

“I told you, it’s hard to describe, but I’m hoping that if you have some time tomorrow night, I could show you.”

Steve sits up properly. “You don’t have to _show_ me, Buck. Not if you’re not ready. I didn’t like that you were lying to me and you—”

“Hey, hey. Stop.” Bucky takes Steve’s hand in his. “I _want_ you to come. I was gonna ask you after I came back from the session, but…”

“Really?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t see that I got _two_ tickets to Chicago.” Bucky smiles at him gently. Steve's eyes widen in shock. So, basically, Steve made a fool of himself. Steve looks away from Bucky, shame searing his skin. He is supposed to trust Bucky. It’s _Bucky._

“I’m sorry,” Steve mutters.

Bucky inhales deeply, drawing circles on Steve’s palm. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“I understand that I lied to you and I broke your trust, I get that, but...why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you just ask me? Did you honestly think I would betray you?”

Steve’s breathing gets shallow again as he really thinks about it. He isn’t going to give Bucky a half-assed answer. Bucky deserves more.

“I guess I’m...waiting for it all to go to hell. Nothing’s ever worked out in my favor.” Steve looks down to their interlocked fingers. Bucky has stopped playing with them. “I was born with a death sentence. I survived every day with a foot in death’s door, and when I _finally_ got better, when I finally had a chance, I lost you because of it. I’ve lost everything over and over again. I know it’s not fair to you for me to be like this, but I don’t know how to...not be afraid all the time.”

“It’s easier to push me away than to lose me,” Bucky states.

Steve nods.

Bucky chuckles wryly. “You’re an idiot.” He reaches out to cup Steve’s face. “I wish I could tell you there’s nothing to worry about. That I’ll stay with you forever because god knows I want to, but I can’t make you that promise. I can promise you that I will fight with everything that I have to get back to you. You’re my life. I’m never letting you go. But we don’t know the future, Stevie. All we have is now. You really wanna lose this, us, because you’re afraid?”

Steve scowls at him. “No, but it’s not gonna be easy.”

“When have you ever been easy? Stuck with you this long, what’s a few more decades?” Bucky teases, earning him a few jabs, until Bucky pins both of Steve’s hands down with his metal one. After a few tries of trying to get free, Steve resorts to leaning up and pressing kisses against every part of Bucky he can reach until Bucky relents.

“Cheater,” he mutters, winding his arms around his boyfriend.

Steve merely smiles against Bucky’s lips.

They’ll be okay.

 

* * *

 

Bucky told him eleven, but hopefully he doesn’t mind that Steve has showed up a bit early. He was so anxious that he might have left way earlier than he planned. He was going to wait outside until it’s time, but well, curiosity gets the best of him and he finds himself ambling towards the entrance.

He smiles at the bouncer. “Hello, I’m here for—um, I need to talk to Jackson.” That is his name, right? _Shit._

“You’re Steve.”

 _Oh, thank god._ “Yeah. I’m kinda early.”

The bouncer grins. “You’re fine. Just head in. Jackson is tending the bar. Long blonde hair. You can’t miss him.”

“Thanks, man,” Steve calls out, slipping into the crowded, pounding building. He maneuvers his way through masses of bodies to the bar while remembering why he doesn’t like crowds. Sure enough, a lean, shaggy-haired blond man is mixing drinks, giving the bottles a couple of flips and twirls for the show. Squeezing himself into a spot to the side, he waits until Jackson walks over to his side of the bar.

“Well, you’re new.”

Steve jumps, turning to find a tiny brunette peering up at him. “Uh, yeah. Hi.”

The brunette grins at him. “I’m Chase,” he yells over the chatter and music. “You’re cute!”

Steve gapes at him for a second before his traitorous blush shades his upper body. “Um, thank you.”

“Wanna dance?”

“Uh...Actually, I’m here with my boyfriend!”

Chase tilts his head to side, smirking. “I don’t see him.”

Steve sighs, irritation prickling him. The last thing he needs is for Bucky to see him like this, not that Bucky will assume anything like Steve did. Steve straightens and looks Chase right in the eye. “I’m not interested, okay? Please leave me alone.”

Chase huffs before walking away and Steve almost sags back into his seat. He hadn’t prepared for this. He prepared to not be recognized, but getting hit on never crossed his mind. Rubbing at his eyes, he slips back into his spot.

After a few minutes, he’s able to get Jackson’s attention who calls for someone to take care of the car while he shows Steve around. They attempt small talk, but it’s practically impossible with the music blaring around them, so Jackson settles for showing Steve his seat and wishing him good luck.

Steve tries to get comfortable in the booth. They _are_ comfy, but Steve has no idea what he’s doing here and Chase and all the other people who have been giving him looks all night without seeing who he really is have put him on the edge. Of course, no amount of alcohol helps, but he dutifully sips at his bottle anyway as the lights dim down and people start cheering. The place goes completely dark for a second before the spotlight shines on the stage and _click-clack_ of heels fill the stage. A leg appears in the light, slowly and deliberately as the crowd gets louder and louder, followed by hips, a flat stomach, a full chest and—

Steve shoots upright in chair, almost dropping his bottle, because the person in front of him speaking into the microphone, riling up the crowd is _not_ a woman. Steve is ninety-two percent sure that this is a man dressed up as a woman, a _drag queen_.

Why would Bucky—?

The realization hits him fast and hard and he’s left speechless. _This_ is Bucky’s secret? Bucky has doing this for months _?!_

But Steve doesn’t have a lot of time to process this possibility. Before he can, five more Queens fill the stage and… _holy shit._

Steve doesn’t know what to do. Steve doesn’t know how to do anything else but stare, eyes wide, as Bucky saunters around the stage in bright shiny red heels, fishnet stockings, a tight black leather dress, dark red hair and _his entire left side of his body painted to match his metal arm._

Steve watches as his boyfriend walks up to the center of the stage, smiling flirtatiously at the crowd as his lipstick glistens under the spotlight. Bucky says something, causing the entire room to cheer louder, but Steve can’t pay attention for the life of him. In fact, for the entire performance _,_ Steve just sits there in a complete daze, his eyes following his boyfriend as he _owns_ the stage, that outfit he’s wearing.

There isn’t a hint of self-consciousness left in Bucky’s body. He _shows off_ his metal arm, smiling secretly when the crowd screams even louder. Steve’s mouth dries at the sight of his boyfriend like this and downs the entire bottle in one go without taking his eyes off the stage. Vaguely, he understands that Bucky is _singing_ and _dancing_ , but it’s almost too much. Steve can’t wrap his head around this yet. He needs time, so he sits there until the show is over and the curtains are closed and the club lights return. Even then, he remains in his seat… _trying_ to take it all in.

“I’m guessing Jamie didn’t warn about this.” A voice chuckles to his left and Steve is relieved to find Jackson standing there.

“I…uh—” _Had he said something?_ _Christ._

Jackson grins. “Maybe you can use some fresh air.”

“Uh, yes.” _Fresh air. Yes._

Jackson tugs him to his feet before slipping into the crowd with Steve on his tail. A few minutes later, they’re in the back parking lot of the building, the cool air doing wonders for Steve.

“Why don’t you stay here for a bit? Jamie will be out soon.” Jackson claps on his shoulder and leaves.

 _Jamie_ …that’s Bucky’s name here. Steve sinks to the cement, his head between his knees. This is too much.

Steve inhales the crisp-cold night air deeply as he waits for Bucky…or maybe it’ll be Jamie who joins him. Steve doesn’t know if he can take that just yet.

Time passes fast and slow and before Steve knows it, the back door opens and closes. At the absence of the _click-clack_ of heels, Steve almost sighs in relief. Bucky appears at his side, wearing black skinny jeans, a loose band shirt and sneakers. Half of his face is still covered in silver paint.

“Hey, pal.”

“Hey.”

Scuffing his shoes against the pavement, Bucky asks, “Mind if I join ya?”

Steve shakes his head and Bucky sits down next to him, leaving about a foot between them. Steve stares at the space then at Bucky who’s smiling lightly at him. It suddenly hits Steve that Bucky is nervous and scared, that he just opened himself up and showed Steve a part of himself _no one_ has ever seen before. This revelation has Steve flying to Bucky’s side, throwing his arms around his boyfriend to bring him closer. Bucky hugs him back tight, tiny shivers running through him as he smiles into Steve’s embrace.

They don’t know how long they stay like this, but eventually, Bucky pulls away lightly to ask, “Chicago?”

“Of course.” Steve doesn’t have to think about it twice. He’ll follow Bucky to the moon and back.

“So, we’re good?”

Steve grins, the lightest he’s felt in a while. “We’ll be okay.”


End file.
